Chapter 452: All Auspiciousness Enters the Cauldron, His Title Is Bestowed

In the Southern Dynasty's deep autumn, the temperature had nearly turned winter-like, yet the south remained warm, utterly unlike the vast grasslands of the north, where snow had already fallen in the farthest reaches.

On the shaded side of the Western Sacred Mountain, snow never melted, perpetually blanketing the high peaks, while in the southern states, the chill was merely slight, prompting people to add a few slightly thicker garments.

Xue Shuangtao extended her palm; snowflakes fell, and the plum blossoms' buds beneath the snow seemed more vivid than ever. She gazed, momentarily lost in thought, her green robe contrasting with the falling snow and early plum, lending her an air of quiet slenderness.

In recent days, the warring states had gradually ceased their hostilities, and the intelligence flowing through the Changfeng Tower had dwindled; reports from the battlefield grew sparse, replaced by an increase in news from court and the Jianghu.

Nations like Ying and Chen spanned vast territories and had endured over three hundred years of imperial rule.

Internal contradictions within these states had accumulated, and conflicts among aristocratic clans, civil officials, and military officers had grown increasingly frequent, gradually surfacing after the wars.

Both nations had seen the rise of notorious bandits and mountain robbers who gathered hundreds of followers, defied imperial orders, ignored Chen's or Ying's laws and taxes, and, taking advantage of the states' decline, subtly resisted the authorities.

Among them, Yu Langwang, during his lone incursion into Ying territory and the siege of its capital, had encountered numerous Jianghu heroes and common folk—nearly all of whom had risen in rebellion, some achieving success, others imprisoned.

Though major warfare had ceased, its lingering effects and transformations continued unabated, yet the civil officials of both nations still wrote of peace and stability, perhaps seeing only the Fire Qilin's brilliance as a true threat.

They overlooked the hearts of the common people beneath this grand, sweeping tide—unaware that beneath the surface of calm waters, droplets had already begun to stir.

This current situation truly deserved the phrase: "Hearing thunder in silence."

Xue Shuangtao, seeing the plum blossoms still closed, leaned out from the third floor of the pavilion, one hand gripping the railing, tiptoeing to gently brush the snow from the plum leaves and carefully lay it upon a sheet of paper, then took a fine brush and wrote in small regular script.

"Today, the first snow fell upon the plum trees of Yicheng—sending this to you, that you may know."

Xue Shuangtao smiled faintly and folded the letter.

Of course, the snow would melt.

Yet the joy felt upon seeing sudden snowfall in late autumn, early winter Yicheng of Southern Chen would remain upon this paper, traveling thousands of miles to land upon that person's desk.

She organized the intelligence gathered over this period, selecting only the valuable and noteworthy reports; when the sun tilted westward, she descended the stairs to find a plain carriage waiting outside.

Zhao Da Bing sat atop the driver's seat, eating a flatbread stuffed with green onions and a small pouch of salt-roasted peanuts. Xue Shuangtao, wrapped in a thick coat, stepped into the carriage. Zhao Da Bing devoured the flatbread in three or two bites, then shoved two handfuls of salt-roasted peanuts into his mouth.

He slapped his hands together, shaking off the coarse salt grains, then urged the carriage forward.

The carriage rolled away along the broad road of Yicheng.

As Zhao Da Bing drove, he heard a faint cough from within the carriage, sighed, and felt worry—Xue Shuangtao was the granddaughter of the ferocious Xue Daoyong, yet at twenty, she remained only at the Third Heaven.

She devoted too much of her spirit to managing the Changfeng Tower and judging worldly affairs; he always feared that scholars were right—deep emotion shortens life, excessive wisdom harms the body. The Young Lady was brilliant, and such mental strain would surely wear her down.

As for whether she loved deeply—

Zhao Da Bing sighed, suddenly recalling the boy who once shared salt-roasted peanuts with him, back when he was only fourteen. Now, he was nearly eighteen or nineteen.

He had become Qin Wu Hou, the peerless lord who dominated the world.

Zhao Da Bing's Wu Gong was ordinary; even if stripped bare, he was merely a Third Heaven Jianghu martial man, one of the Xue family's eyes and ears during Qin Wu Hou's legendary campaigns.

Qin Wu Hou fought Jiang Su, the Divine General.

Qin Wu Hou and Tian Kehan were one and the same.

Qin Wu Hou marched through the southwest, driving his army down the waterways.

Qin Wu Hou shattered Yuwen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu, then counterattacked Ying.

The hardships, struggles, and life-or-death battles experienced firsthand by those involved were erased in transmission; instead, their legendary qualities grew ever more prominent through oral retelling.

It was as if these victories had been won with effortless ease.

The invincible legend in history was forged step by step, passed mouth to mouth among the people, and written into poetry.

Yet these achievements were each more terrifying than the last, each more glorious. During those days, apart from Lu Youxian's suicide—which made Xue Daoyong sigh, lamenting that in all of Chen, there were fewer and fewer men worth drinking with—

all other victories made the old man's smile widen and his laughter grow louder.

Even the weight of Nanshan could not press down his smile.

For days, the old man's laughter had never ceased from his small pavilion.

At first, Xue Daoyong could still maintain a stoic expression before outsiders, feigning annoyance at the boy's arrogance—he was still imperial kin, still chancellor, he could not act too recklessly, he had to at least pretend.

But later, he stopped pretending altogether.

The old man who, since youth, had roamed the world, once chased desert bandits across the desert with nothing but a cart of arrows, reopened trade routes to the Western Regions, and boasted himself the greatest gambler of the chaotic age—over two centuries, he had doubled the Xue family's wealth.

Only now had he finally won the biggest bet of his life!

He had thought he'd found a heroic figure of the chaotic age, and placed a heavy wager.

Who could have imagined he'd found a true dragon of the chaotic age?

He had bet everything!

And truly, he had won big.

Li Guanyi gradually cultivated his Wu Gong, serving as a Captain in Yicheng—the very post Xue Daoyong had arranged for him—slowly honing his martial path and interpersonal skills.

In the years since the youth had left Yicheng, the ancient city remained unchanged; houses stood as before, streets retained their old form, time rolling like a cart over cobblestones.

It resembled the past so closely that when Zhao Da Bing drove past a corner, he could almost see the young guest minister in his dark blue brocade robe, hands tucked in his sleeves, smiling with an air of premature maturity, offering a greeting.

As one grows older, the passage of time becomes unreal.

These four years had flashed by for Zhao Da Bing, and for the city alike.

Somehow, Zhao Da Bing once thought the boy, as guest minister, grew too close to the Young Lady—it seemed inappropriate. But now, compared to the lord who roared across the land, raised his sword, and whipped the Jianghu into submission—

the girl, beautiful yet distant and quiet, standing beneath the plum trees of Southern Chen, seemed, by worldly standards, no longer a fitting match.

The carriage entered the Xue family compound. Xue Shuangtao wore a black robe with a green sash, her hair tied with a wooden pin. Cold weather had her wrapped in a satin cloak with fur-lined collar, her demeanor calm and chilly.

She murmured thanks and walked quietly into the aristocratic courtyard.

Zhao Da Bing leaned against the carriage and sighed: "Little Li, will you return? When you do, come sooner—these past years, the Young Lady has waited for you with great suffering."

Yet suddenly, he thought—

Will the one who returns still be that young guest minister?

It will be Qin Wu Hou.

Or perhaps…

………………

Inside the Nine Tripods, the qi and fortune surged violently; the sense of resonance among the three aligned tripods vanished, then settled into stillness. Li Guanyi, dazed, retracted the faint divine essence and slowly opened his eyes—he was still in the Jiuli Mystical Realm, the ancient homeland of the Jiuli clan.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer touched Li Guanyi with its antlers and asked, puzzled, "You just closed your eyes—what were you thinking about?"

Li Guanyi said, "I think I went to a place very, very far away."

He pressed his fingertip against his third eye. That fleeting divine essence, rising to ride the river of fortune, taking a single step to traverse a thousand li—it had felt like a dream, illusory. With the transformation of the Nine Tripods now subsiding, that sensation vanished too.

The Ancient Crimson Dragon stretched its body and burst into laughter: "Good, good."

"After a fight, my bones finally feel loosened up."

"Otherwise, just seeing this Iron-Eating Beast, little cats and birds—it's boring!"

The Iron-Eating Beast, Duanzi, shuddered, its body stiffening.

But even as it stiffened, its paws moved instinctively, still shoving the bamboo shoot into its mouth.

Eeeh! Ancient Crimson Dragon, so terrifying!!!

Better eat something to calm my nerves first.

Chew, chew.

You say, this bamboo shoot—chew, chew.

Who even discovered it? So delicious.

Crisp, tender, refreshing, juicy and abundant.

The Iron-Eating Beast Duanzi's thoughts drifted elsewhere, lost in some distant place. Li Guanyi rose slowly, gazing at the southwestern tripod, his eyes lowering slightly. Thus, the southwestern tripod, the western tripod, the southern river tripod—all were now complete.

The qi and fortune of these three great tripods flowed, sufficient to bestow three blessings simultaneously upon Li Guanyi's vast domain: the southern river's vitality, granted by the Crimson Dragon's eight-hundred-year lifespan; the western land's grim warlike energy; and Jiuli's metal and iron.

Li Guanyi murmured to himself: "This journey is complete. It is time to return."

At that moment, the Nine Tripods suddenly rang out. Li Guanyi froze slightly—his carried thread of fortune, representing the Chen state, suddenly rose from within the tripod. That fortune remained splendid as a colorful silk ribbon.

It spun once, then shot straight outward.

Over there, the Fire Qilin was quarreling with the Iron-Eating Beast Duanzi over bamboo shoots.

One thought bamboo shoots should be eaten raw; the other insisted they must be roasted.

A fundamental, extreme hostility arose: one believed bamboo shoots must be eaten as bamboo shoots; the other deemed raw consumption barbaric. The two immediately began fighting, rolling and grappling together.

The Ancient Crimson Dragon, witnessing this display of "younger generation" behavior, was delighted beyond measure, roaring with laughter: "Excellent, hahaha!"

"Interesting, interesting!"

"Fight! Keep fighting! Yes, bite there!"

"Hahahaha!"

Yet even as the Ancient Crimson Dragon laughed joyfully at the brawl, that thread of Chen state fortune spiraled once, then shot straight toward the young Fire Qilin, sinking into its body.

Boom!!!

The Fire Qilin's own aura and fortune came into contact.

It was like hot oil poured onto fire—in an instant, it erupted violently. The fire elemental energy swirling over the Qilin's body surged, and the azure water elemental energy rose even higher, faintly revealing a transformation in form.

The Fire Qilin's scales shimmered like luminous jade, radiating multicolored auspicious light, stepping upon auspicious clouds, its beard and whiskers fluttering in the wind like divine ribbons, exuding an indescribable sacred majesty.

The Iron-Eating Beast Duanzi: "…………"

It sat down heavily, like a human, utterly stunned.

Its left paw still clutched the bamboo shoot, shoving it toward its mouth.

Forget it—first, eat a bamboo shoot to calm my nerves.

The Fire Qilin, stunned, recoiled in alarm, then raised both paws, bewildered: "What… what happened?!"

The Ancient Crimson Dragon roared with laughter: "Right! This little one, five hundred years ago, was born from a transformation, stolen from the Mystical Realm by Chen Baxian, then placed within the Chen imperial palace's array, nurtured for hundreds of years."

"When the Chen Wu Di of three hundred years ago was assassinated by the Crimson Emperor, dozens of iron-armored soldiers attacked—this little one spat a single blast of Qilin fire, melting their armor, catching them off-guard and seizing the advantage."

"Twenty years ago, that Tai Ping Gong also rode this Qilin to subdue the four directions."

"The founding and flourishing of the Chen state have always been tied to the Qilin's might."

"All connected to the Qilin."

"Thus, it is only natural that this little one has become the auspicious sign bound to the Chen state's fortune."

Li Guanyi also realized—Fire Qilin, lost in thought. Though he did not understand what had happened, it was surely good!

The Ancient Crimson Dragon added: "Moreover, the Mystical Realm itself lies within the Chen state."

"This Qilin, back then, ate itself to death—died right here in the Chen state."

"Born here, died here—its bond with this land is extremely tight."

The Fire Qilin, stunned, struggled to wave its paws and protest: "I said, that was my past self! My past self gorged on those pearls—has nothing to do with me! My past self was my past self; my present self is my present self!"

The Ancient Crimson Dragon pondered, then asked: "Were those pearls tasty?"

The Fire Qilin answered instinctively: "Delicious beyond words."

Fire Qilin: "…………"

The Ancient Crimson Dragon roared with laughter, the sound shaking the four corners of the land: "Hahaha! You ate those pearls too! So even this profound connection doesn't count?!"

The Fire Qilin stood frozen. Li Guanyi reached out and stroked the Fire Qilin. The two had lived bound by life and death for years, their bond deep and warm—no need for the elaborate rituals required by the Ancient Crimson Dragon or the Nine-Colored Divine Deer.

That thread of Chen state fortune settled upon the Nine Tripods.

Then, on two of the remaining six tripod sides, two surfaces glowed faintly.

On them, faint traces of the Qilin appeared.

And another side glowed faintly.

On it, the mark of the Divine Eagle was visible.

Though the Qilin had never claimed the Chen state or the grasslands, it stood beside Li Guanyi—the divine beast most intimately tied to the Chen state's fortune and earth veins—and, through the fleeting moment when the three tripods' fortunes merged, it forged a connection with the Divine Eagle.

Unlike the western and southwestern tripods.

In the Western Regions, one must first gradually wage war and slowly come into contact with auspicious beings like the Nine-Colored Divine Deer; but in the Southwest, the territory's boundaries, due to the prestige of Li Guanyi's father, Tai Ping Gong, were no obstacle—it was hard merely to find the auspicious beings.

Now, in the Chen State, though the grasslands have not yet come under this body's command, the auspicious beings are already here.

One day, when the military blade reaches there, a cauldron may be cast.

Yet the destiny of the Chen State, the destiny of the Ying State, the destiny of the grasslands—strong powers like the Great Ying State still possess sufficient destiny and foundation to cast three cauldrons, yet the Chen State is even more prosperous than the grasslands, sufficient to cast two of its own cauldrons.

Perhaps the casting of cauldrons has little to do with territorial area.

Perhaps it is because the Chen State and the Ying State are lands with dynastic lineages of at least several hundred years—this centuries-long destiny, the earth veins beneath vast territories, the convergence of hearts, the emergence of heroes—all are extraordinary, whereas the grasslands, though vast, are fractured and warring among themselves.

This great momentum now exists because the current Turkic Great Khan is a great hero born once every five hundred years on the grasslands.

He subdued all four directions, uniting the formerly divided great khans into one, thus achieving such glorious prestige—the strength lies in the Great Khan himself, not in the various Turkic tribes of the grasslands.

Once this Great Khan dies, the boundless grasslands will immediately fracture into a dozen or more smaller khanates—where then is any foundation?

Li Guanyi understood the current situation.

He understood the momentum surging forward.

Now standing high above, the tangled world situation truly revealed itself like clouds parting to reveal the sun!

The destiny of this world surged violently; the tasks ahead were now clear. The Ancient Taigu Chilong roared, seizing all these auspicious beings—the Sun Divine Bird, Xuan Hu Shan Jun, and the Southwest Iron-Eating Beast all let out a chorus of screams.

The Ancient Taigu Chilong said: "What are you screaming for?"

"Scream again, and I'll eat you!"

Li Guanyi nearly laughed—what kind of old man's trick was this, scaring a three-year-old?

Yet those three little ones actually fell silent, huddling together—Xuan Hu Shan Jun's paws covered its own face and the Iron-Eating Beast's mouth, while the Sun Divine Bird spread its wings over its eyes.

The Iron-Eating Beast trembled, clutching the Ancient Taigu Chilong's horns, each of them holding back two large tears.

Li Guanyi: "…………"

Wait, Elder Taigu Chilong, what exactly was your image in the ancient era?

Which auspicious being could make other divine beasts cry so hard they couldn't even sob?

Please don't wear that smug, self-satisfied expression.

Could that title "Candle Dragon, Devourer of the Sun, Celestial Lord" possibly be literal?

As they departed, the Ancient Taigu Chilong lowered its gaze, its golden vertical pupils fixed upon the vast, ancient Jiuli Sacred Land, as if it could still see the former prosperity, the flame of civilization once ignited here, spreading, then extinguished.

Yet this human destiny, thousands of years later, had once again converged, forged into a new vessel of state in roaring flames—a crude cauldron bearing ancient, simple patterns, inhaling and exhaling the fire of civilization.

The Ancient Taigu Chilong lowered its eyes, as if seeing the bronze array above, where once scrolls of ancient banners fluttered like clouds falling from heaven, and where once a bold man stood, laughing at the world.

But heroes rise, and they also grow old, and they die.

Not everyone deserves to be called an opponent.

A worthy adversary is also a bosom friend; after life-and-death battles, a thousand years pass, and returning here, the Ancient Taigu Chilong could only sigh, recalling with fondness its fierce duel with Jiuli Bingzhu—it had truly been exhilarating.

Only in recent years had the battle with the Sword Madman come close.

In a daze, he saw wind rise and clouds surge—the ancient, bold monarch turned around, his brown robe fluttering down, transforming into Qilin patterns. Li Guanyi placed his palm upon the Nine Cauldrons, glancing sideways at the Ancient Taigu Chilong, saying: "Elder, let us go."

The Ancient Taigu Chilong was momentarily dazed; before its eyes still seemed to linger the image of the ancient Jiuli clan laughing and raging—but it could no longer recall what he had said. Jiuli, and this era's Li Guanyi—one departed, one arrived.

Human life is fire; the mortal world is full of bold heroes.

One after another, they come.

The Ancient Taigu Chilong sighed: "Coming here, I suddenly thought of an old friend."

"Back then, in battle, now recalling it, still fills me with nostalgia."

"Seeing you, I know Jiuli has not perished—living long in this world, there are always interesting things."

Li Guanyi asked: "A thousand years from now, will you speak of me to those who come after?"

The Ancient Taigu Chilong gazed deeply at this young, valiant, heroic boy, its golden eyes holding a weary, ancient smile: "I will."

"Such is mortal life; history is merciless."

"Wait three thousand years—I will speak to those who come after of Qin Wu, who forged the cauldrons three thousand years ago. One day, when seas become mulberry fields, you too will become an old friend."

Li Guanyi smiled: "When that time comes."

"Please, in my name."

"Behind these Nine Cauldrons, let those who come after drink a cup of wine."

The Ancient Taigu Chilong burst into loud laughter, saying:

"Good!"

The dragon's roar shook the heavens and eternity; it soared upward, returning to Jiangnan, Li Guanyi sitting cross-legged atop its head, his hair streaming in the wind.

Perhaps because he had seen an old friend, perhaps because of this mood, the Ancient Taigu Chilong's spirits were high—even its flight speed slowed to a gentler pace.

The three little ones, trembling before, finally fell still.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer no longer needed to guard Yao Guang so carefully.

Yet at that moment, the Ancient Taigu Chilong suddenly said: "Wait a moment, little one—when you entered the cauldron, did you pay eight hundred years of life?"

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer: "…………"

The Southwest Auspicious Beings: "…………"

The little Qilin asked, puzzled: "Eight hundred years of what?"

The air seemed to freeze.

The Ancient Taigu Chilong's dragon pupils narrowed slightly: "Oh?"

In the next instant, its speed surged violently, dragging behind a long trail of screams.

"Aaaahhhhh!"

"I'm gonna die! Aaaahhh… wait, I'm a cat, not a bear!!!"

"My bamboo shoots! Aaaahhhhh!!!"

In the end, when they returned this time, not only had the Iron-Eating Beast turned into a dumpling, but Xuan Hu Shan Jun and the Fire Qilin also embraced Li Guanyi, and after a moment of contemplation, the silver-haired girl reached out and grabbed hold of Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi descended from the back of the Ancient Crimson Dragon as if he were covered in ornaments.

The speed was too fast.

Even he felt his legs go weak upon landing.

It was proven that speed and strength cannot be balanced was a lie.

Enraged by the cost of eight hundred, the Crimson Dragon demonstrated that the greater the power, the faster the speed; Li Guanyi, still dazed, returned to Jiangnan and only three days passed before two events occurred.

One was that Emperor Chen Dingye had sent two gifts.

The other—

The envoy sent to bestow a title on behalf of the current Red Emperor.

Prince Ji Yanzhong finally arrived with the imperial edict; countless civilians and soldiers gazed at him as if their eyes were turning into blazing flames, every gaze brimming with intense fervor and expectation.

During this time, Prince Ji Yanzhong had come to deeply understand Li Guanyi's standing among the people and soldiers across this vast land, so he could almost sense the meaning behind these burning, reverent stares directed at him.

My lord, what title shall be bestowed?!

Should he be crowned Emperor?

Or Emperor!!?

?? Please vote for monthly tickets, friends~